nott

well, that’s the kind of person i am

putting events into my phone calendar

like a terrible little troll, peeing

on the future. clown

on guilt’s vibration all you want; pretending it’s forbidden is as worthless as pretending it’s banal. When we say that we’re not “from anywhere”, we don’t mean to say that we eat space. We detest ‘being’ and ‘being from’, but can only ever hope to co-agitate as merely gremlins of the spaces we inhabit. The constant failures to regard the space that surrounds mark us as people whose opinions, fears and dreams about it are nothing more than complicated hexes against the possibilities inherent therein. The fear of what life will look like. But if sitting up and lying down are violent odes to movement as behavior then let’s admit we’re dying to set out in new directions, and like the freshest NAVY ensign invoke holographic hills if cornered by some errant daddy’s honks. Half the whole hometown tunes in anyway at night, but usually to worship and its attendant doorknobs. On many docks we tarry, recording golden echoes meant for busier conductors. Big dog and its super-psycho whirs tell so many fucked-up stories, but I can’t seem to get past tossing clumps of sprouted wheat into the bay.